and the ghosts that we knew (will flicker from view)
by ruatcaelum
Summary: Alex wins the first round of 'Antiques Roadshow Poker', and a grand total of 70p. (because the world needs more halex fics)


Disclaimer: I own nothing, although I want Damien Molony. A lot.

Set immediately after 5x06.

xxxxxx

Alex wins the first round of 'Antiques Roadshow Poker', and a grand total of 70p; Tom whines and says that it's not fair, Hal was blatantly helping her, but Hal just tuts at him and clears away their mugs while Alex giggles and lets her gaze follow him out the room for longer than Tom deems proper for the middle of the afternoon.

xxxxxx

(Secretly, he's thrilled he can finally lord it over Lord Harry that he's better at matchmaking than he is.)

xxxxxx

Alex's visit to her family is brief, unnervingly calm, and surprisingly final. She is silent all the way there, barely speaks when they get there and silent again on the long train journey home. Hal and Tom share concerned looks from seats opposite each other; Hal squeezes the arm he has around Alex a little tighter.

xxxxxx

It turns out that Alex's new passion in life, is lists. She writes several the day after the trip up to Scotland (which the boys silently agree to never mention, ever)- three documenting the things she'd like to do with her life, the goals she wants to have achieved by certain ages, and one Long And Comprehensive shopping list.

Hal approves at first, but finds "make love in the Grand Canyon" a bit of a strange life goal, and decides to stop reading after she finds his reaction far too funny.

(Alex knows when he finally gives in and finishes reading them all; she hears him choking on his tea as his eyes catch the word "condoms" from the kitchen.)

xxxxxx

It's exactly four days, 7 hours and 13 minutes after they get back to Honolulu Heights from visiting Scotland that Alex sits Hal down and tells him it is time for The Talk.

(He counts.)

All they've done so far is hug, share meaningful gazes, and secret smiles; Hal, naturally, is nervous.

'So.'

'...So.'

'I'm here!'

He can't help but smile at this. 'As am I.'

'And do you still want, y'know, to be with me, or-'

'Yes!' His interjection comes so fast she can't help but smirk; he blushes. (Alex can't help but note how _ho_t it is when he does the whole awkward puppy thing.) 'Yes, Alex, I am more than willing to try, er, well, to indeed successfully enter into courtship with you, and I hope-'

She cuts him off with her mouth. He is more than relieved, and the kiss is soft and tastes of summer rain.

She lingers just in front of him, having leaned over from the other side of the counter. (It felt safest for Alex to do this in the kitchen; it's practically become her territory over the last few days.) His eyes can't leave her mouth.

'Perfect,' He breathes, and she scrunches her face up in that wonderfully Alex-like way, he notes, and chuckles softly at him.

'Please don't tell me that since the bloodsucking part of you has vamoosed you're all awkward, soft-and-fluffy Hal in the bedroom, too. 'Cause something about those fangs was bloody sexy,' she muses.

He raises an eyebrow, but lets it slide. Something inside him clicks; _game on._ Adjusting the arm he has resting on the counter below him he leans in closer, so their foreheads are touching. Her eyes flutter shut for a brief moment just at this sensation, that they can actually feel each other.

He waits until her eyes open again and meet his before speaking quietly, and calmly.

'Alex Millar. I will have you know that despite my reserved appearance, for which I have 500 years of observing proper mannerisms to thank, I don't even need to be touching you to have you whimpering my name in minutes. I am more than capable of taking all control in the bedroom. And don't you dare think I've lost enjoyment in biting.'

She swallows. His pupils are so dilated his irises have turned black (and not, this time, with anything other than a lust that can be sated with something _other_ than blood) and his hot breath against her face makes her want to groan.

'...Well then. That's all I wanted to know. Got any questions, anything you'd like to clear up?' She pops the '_p_' of 'up', and he almost loses it.

Not taking his eyes off her lips he stands and makes his way round the counter. 'I suppose I'd like to be reassured that your dirty little mouth is not neglected in the bedroom, Miss Millar?'

'Oh no. Like a twatting sailor, I am.'

'Fantastic news.'

She's pretty sure she's panting as he quickly and quietly pins her up against the counter; all this teasing is frustrating her but then his arms slip around her waist, his body is flush against hers, and her only clean thought is how she's very surprised she hasn't cried out yet.

Clearly she must have let out some kind of gasp (everything's so hazy and all she can focus on is those _lips_) because he takes her bottom lip between his teeth and tugs, slightly, a reprimand.

'Careful, Alex,' His voice is low and dangerous; for a moment memories of Lord Harry echo through both their minds, but he smiles quickly and any thoughts of evil are put out of their already rather occupied minds. 'Tom's still home.'

'Fuck Tom,' She retorts, and impatiently wriggles slightly as he pauses before kissing her.

'I'd much rather you fuck me,' He whispers; and before she can get a snarky comment back at him he's kissing her and _holy fuck_ he's clearly done this all before and she wants no needs him to keep on doing it-

xxxxxx

The first time they have sex - in his bedroom, of course, Hal demands it be done properly - Alex comes seven times, and is sorry she ever doubted the 500-year-old for more than a microsecond.

xxxxxx

Tom spends the time those first few weeks between behind the bar at the local pub (he and Hal split the night shifts; Tom doesn't mind the attention of tipsy ladies quite as much as Hal does) and the living room.

He sits, drinks the tea Hal brings him, and he stares at the little paper wolf sitting on the mantelpiece.

xxxxxx

One evening, late at night Alex comes downstairs to turn off the lights and finds him sitting there, crying.

'Tom! Bloody hell, what's wrong?'

He opens his mouth to tell her what might be; then Hal appears in the doorway, anxious for her return to him, and he _can't_.

'"Eastenders" got real intense. Nothin' else really.'

She snorts at him. 'Loser. Get some sleep soon, yeah?'

He nods in return, watches as the other two wander back upstairs, and aches for their sakes for this all to be real.

xxxxxx

'Alex, you're hair's all mussed up, like you've been sleepin' in a bush or summat.'

'Uh-huh.'

'...Do I want to know why?'

'Nope.' Hal answers Tom for her, and takes another piece of toast.

'Ah.' Conversation closed.

xxxxxx

'Tom, did you make this?'

'Wha'?'

'This- what is it, a dog? A wolf?'

'...Nah, I didn't-'

'Huh. Must have been Hal. He's well good at that origami stuff isn't he?'

'Probably. Talented old tosser.'

'Hey. That's my boyfriend you're talking about.'

She's not really calling him out; she just likes saying it out loud.

He smiles, sadly, but she doesn't notice; he decides that even if this is a dream, he doesn't want it to end. No way.

xxxxxx

'Hal.'

'Mm.'

'You awake?'

'Mm... OWW, alright, yes!'

'D'you think Tom's OK?'

A pause. 'I don't see why not.'

'He just seems a bit... I don't know, quieter than normal.'

'Maybe he just needs to find love. Now that he truly can be himself with someone, that's just what he needs to procure real happiness.'

'Only you would manage to make a comment about Tom getting laid sound all... _poetic_.'

'Alex! That's not what I meant at-'

She silences him in the way she knows best. (It comes in very handy)

xxxxxx

One afternoon, a nondescript number of days later, when he's got her pinned up against the wall somewhere between his room and the bathroom with his hand up her shirt, he tells her he loves her.

She squeals, and yanks his head back to hers, giving him her reply into his mouth. Hal thinks it translates as something like 'I fucking love you too, you big softie'.

xxxxxx

Tom brings home fellow bar-worker Julia that night to meet the other two; admittedly he would have preferred that their first introduction would not have involved the first thing they witnessed in entering the living room being Alex sitting astride a rather disheveled Hal, but the rest of the evening is lovely and the four get on very well.

(At least they'd had their clothes on; the memory of that fateful Sunday still makes Tom feel slightly ill.)

xxxxxx

'Alex. Hal. I think I'm in love with Julia,' Tom announces over a breakfast of burnt toast and orange juice; all 3 are running late for job shifts and interviews alike.

'Score!' Alex licks the crumbs off her fingers and grins approvingly at him.

'Tom, that's fantastic news!' Hal tells him.

'Yeah. Ta. I've met her parents an' all. I think I'm gonna tell her tonight.'

'You've met her parents?'

'Well, yeah,' His voice is tinged with a hint of defensiveness. 'Just cause you two don't feel the need to ever socialize with anyone but each other and occasionally me doesn't mean things aren't happening outside Honolulu Heights, alrigh'?'

Hal swallows; Alex bristles.

'OK _lover boy_, sorry we're not making as much effort as you, some of us are just happy with being human again, yeah? It's not like there's anything to do in fucking _Barry_ or anything is there?'

With this she storms out; Tom coughs awkwardly, Hal's fingers itch as he wonders whether to follow her or not.

'Is this lady stuff?'

'No, Tom, it's... Well I'm quite sure it's to do with her family.'

'Wha'? I thought we sor'ed all that!'

Hal crushes a piece of toast between the thumb and forefinger of his right hand. His response is simple. 'No.'

The trio head to work in subdued moods; of course, the people around them ferry on without noticing and Tom wants to scream.

xxxxxx

The evening picks up; Julia loves Tom too, Alex apologises to her boys and Tom forgets about the paper wolf, restored to its place on the mantelpiece, just for a little while.

They laugh, and celebrate, and Hal makes fairy cakes.

'What kind of man calls them "fairy cakes"?!'

'This one.'

'Yeah, alright, answered my question for me there, didn'tcha.'

'Oi. Don't like it, don't eat them.'

'It's not the cupcakes I have a problem with is it. It's the little girl in the apron who's making them for us I find weird.'

'I'll have you know- hold on, how many is that now?'

'Five.'

'You're not even ashamed.'

'Nope. Why should I be?'

'Gluttony is a sin, Alex.'

(He's teasing now; really he gave up a long time ago and is just enjoying watching her lick the icing from her fingers.)

'Yeah? Well so is that thing you did last night with the-'

'Yes alright, alright.' A sharp look from Tom has him interjecting speedily.

'Oi. Hal. 'Nother fairy cake, ta.'

Hal brings it to him soundlessly, frowning at Alex as he crosses the room.

'Glutton,' he mutters to her as he makes his way back past her to the kitchen.

'Fairy,' she chuckles back.

xxxxxx

Something's wrong. Everything is too right. Tom can't help the aching feeling inside of him that _this can't be real_-

xxxxxx

Tom decides to tell Hal about the paper wolf one Thursday afternoon when it's just them in the house, Alex is out shopping, and soft spring sunlight is drifting through the living room windows so that he can see every single dust mote as they drift past.

Hal's response is quiet, measured.

'I know.'

'D'you understand what it, what this all-'

'Yes, Tom.'

Tom is lost for words. His pocket buzzes, another text from Julia, and he feels slightly sick, but the understanding in Hal's eyes as he meets his gaze is reassuring, and Tom doesn't feel scared any more.

Alex chooses this moment to burst through the front door.

'Right, Tom, they were out of that pink washing up liquid so I got the purple one, hope that's not too much of a issue, and Hal, they didn't have any of that weird shower gel you said you liked so I bought you one I like. Problem? Thought not. And they were doing an offer on shortbread so I thought I'd-'

The tension in the room, something she hasn't felt in what feels like eternity, stops her from busying herself with the bags. She steps further into the living room.

'What? What's happened?'

Hal can't quite make Tom's eye anymore, and remains silent.

'Alex, 'ave you noticed anything... Strange about this place since we all became human?'

Alex blinks a few times, the cogs turning in her brain as she tries to work out where this is going.

'Well... The weather's been really great. I figure we've got global warming to thank for that though, right?'

She's laughing as she slumps down onto the sofa beside Hal, but there's an edge to her voice that makes Tom nervous.

'Alex...' He leans forward, as ever unsure how quite to deal with the situation. 'Me and 'al think that this isn't... That we're...' He can't go on.

'That this is the afterlife. Our afterlife.' Hal finishes for him, still staring at the table in front of him.

Alex frowns.

'But... We said no to all that dream crap, we defeated him, we defeated the devil for Christ's sake!'

The other two can't find anything more to say.

xxxxxxx

The first time Hal and Alex walk in on Tom and Julia (they're in the kitchen, christening Alex's favourite table in the corner) is when it all finally catches up with Alex.

Hal takes her upstairs when she starts crying; in the privacy of his room she breaks down, curling into a ball on his bed. He hovers, not really knowing what to do.

'So, none of this is real? Us, and Julia, and Tom's happiness, it's all a figment of our shitting imaginations?'

'No, Alex, this is us now- our life in death, so to speak, our eternity. You must know, you've died, you've seen-'

'The other side. Yes.' She snaps at him through her tears. 'And it was fucking nothing like this.'

He moves to sit beside her on the bed. 'Alex. I've got you, you've got me. We're happy. Let's just believe in that, yes?'

'But what about aging an' all? What about having children and growing old together? Are you seriously telling me I'm never going to have that?'

He smiles, and tells her about the grey hair he found the other day.

After a moment she pulls him close, and lets him kiss the tears away.

xxxxxxx

Lord Harry isn't completely gone.

(He was never going to just disappear completely, was he?)

It's not the blood craving that lingers on, it's the mannerisms; the way he treats the men who get too close to Alex when they decide to go visit Tom and Julia in the pub, the way he sneers at the adolescent idiots who frequent the corner shop at the end of their street, the way he wants to hurt the people who get in his way on the bus-

He has to stop, and remember that he's human now, and that even if he is dead and none of this or these people are real he still can't afford to slip up, not now he's got Alex.

This world, real or not, is a reward, a blessing. So he smiles, and lets the bored-looking 15-year-old popping chewing gum go before him in the queue for the till.

xxxxxx

'Me and Julia, we're gonna move in together.'

Tom breaks the news in classic Tom manner, awkwardly and at an inopportune time (they're watching Real Hustle re-runs at two in the morning).

'Oh,' Is all Hal can muster. Alex is asleep in his arms.

'Yeah. Next week, I think. We've found a place.'

'Where?' His tone is neutral.

'Just down the road. Opposite the pub.'

Hal breathes a sigh of relief; Alex shifts in his arms, and murmurs quietly in her sleep.

'How marvellous. I'm truly happy for you, Tom.'

'You two gonna be alrigh'? Without me?'

'We'll manage. You'll come visit?'

'All the fuckin' time, mate.'

The credits to The Real Hustle start up, unexpectedly loud.

'Wha'?' Alex jerks awake, kicking Hal's leg with her own. The boys' eyes meet, and all they can do is laugh.

(Alex doesn't get the joke.)

xxxxxx

'No but _seriously_, what's so funny?'

'Nothing, Alex. You're beautiful.'

'Hmph.'

A few seconds, then:

'I'll take that. C'mere, you ex-hellion.'

xxxxxx

'Hal. Hal! HAL! Come here! Right now!'

It's three weeks after Tom's moved out; memories of existential questions seem distant and blurred.

'HAL!'

He bursts into the bathroom where he divines her cries are coming from. She's sitting on the floor, slumped against the bath, grinning and crying so that the dark mascara trails on her face make her look like a clown.

(It's weird, sometimes, where his mind goes in times of stress.)

'Alex! What's wrong?'

She gulps tears down, noisily, and he crouches on his haunches beside her, surveying the mess of paper in the bathroom.

'I'm pregnant, Hal. I'm fucking _pregnant_!' She cackles.

Hal topples over.

xxxxxx

Later that night, snuggled deep and dark under the duvet;

'Alex, will you-'

'Yes.'

She can feel him grinning against her neck.

xxxxxx

'What made you so sure that this isn't... y'know, real an' all?'

Alex has a habit of only asking him these questions late at night, when they're entangled in each other and he's half asleep.

'I saw Annie, the other day.'

'Oh.'

'And Mitchell, John Mitchell, you remember, the one I told-'

'Yeah. Yeah, I remember.'

A silence.

'Well?'

'Fuck.'

A soft chuckle; warm hands conjoin.

'I love you, Alex Yorke.'

Another pause; he tenses beside her.

'I love you too. More than life itself.'

He hums approvingly at her joke.

In their little enclave, they truly were safe.

- Finis


End file.
